


Hearts Ablaze

by momjeansenthusiast



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), College Student Peter Parker, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Oc is plus size, Original Character(s), Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Poor Bucky Barnes, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Size Difference, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:15:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23995858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momjeansenthusiast/pseuds/momjeansenthusiast
Summary: Bucky and Violet are soulmates, but that doesn't mean that being together will be easy.(Soulmate AU)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), Michelle Jones & Peter Parker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter One: Twin Flames

The frigid Manhattan air whipped around the impossibly tall door as it opened. Violet was holding two plastic bags and a large metal water bottle in her hands while her ratty, overloaded backpack threatened to snap her spine. She’d grabbed lunch for herself and Peter, wanting to surprise him because of how intense his “internship” had gotten. She never wanted to press the issue, but Violet always suspected that his internship was actually just spandex playdates with a billionaire. Despite having the gig for years, Peter had never taken her to the tower. Consequently, she was just a bundle of nerves as she rambled inside. The impossibly shiny mock-wood tiles echoed every step, alerting the front desk receptionist to her presence. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Ma’am but tours are actually only on the last friday of every month. ” 

Violet peaked her head up, a few unruly tresses fell in her face as she did so- fiery orange now obscuring her view. She was eyeing the receptionist- a petite blonde woman with a heart shaped face and an untrusting glare in her dark eyes. She wore an ivory button down that looked like it cost more than Violet’s rent for the month and pointed her well manicured nails at the calendar. 

“Oh no, um actually I’m here to see Peter,” she spat out, anxieties gnawing on her mind, “Um, Peter Parker I mean.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, and took in Violet’s admittedly haphazard appearance. She wore her unruly ginger hair on top of her head, though some defiant strands still managed to coil their way to her face. Her oversized, clunky glasses pushed high on the bridge of her nose, a worn, billowy, printed men’s button down and a torn up pair of jeans covered her body, Only a faded jean jacket that had clearly seen better days and a worn out pair of vans provided any morsel of warmth against the New York temperatures. 

“Do you have an appointment?” Her tone was laced thickly with distan. 

Vi fiddled with the bags in her right hand, before meekly muttering “No.” She was frustrated that she felt so intimidated by some asshole behind a desk, but she wasn’t given much time to worry. Just as it seemed she was about to get the boot, she heard a familiar voice call her name out from across the lobby. 

“Vi! What’re you doin’ here?” 

“Heya Pete,” she chuckled, “Just thought I’d stop by and surprise the best intern ever with some lunch. I haven’t seen much of you recently so I thought we could eat together!”

“ _No way_! From Delmar’s? You didn’t mess up my order did you?”

She blushed some, Peter’s happiness was always infectious, especially to her meek demnor. 

“Of course not, a grilled ham and cheese and pickle on french bread with mustard-”

“Pressed flat. Yeah yeah. I know I'm predictable. Let’s go find somewhere to sit.” 

He took the bags from her and began to show her around, having some fun anecdotes about nearly every square foot of the tower. She just followed and listed, happy Peter was opening up about whatever it was he did with Mr. Stark. 

“Sorry if I’m boring you Vi, but this place is like a playground! Oh! Wait until I show you Mr. Stark’s lab! It's so crazy!” he said giggling. 

Peter brought her to an indoor cafe lounge area that made her feel like she was out of place. They sat together in a comfortable sort of silence, eating their sandwiches and just enjoying each other's company. They’d been friends for almost five years, ever since May, Peter’s aunt, fostered her. 

Violet had once been a part of a cultish girls school called Coventry, having been there since she was 8. To the outside world, Coventry was a prestigious girls academy, but within it’s weathered, stony walls, it housed dark secrets. The academy focused on cultivating the most intelligent female minds and using them for intel gathering. Though she tried to hide it behind frumpy clothes and wild hair, Violet Paterson was smart. Her IQ was somewhere in the high 170s, she fluent in ten languages, she excelled in all subjects, practically a weapon of knowledge. She hated it though, always would rather do creative, softer things, like study botany or read old poetry, but Coventry always put her to work in “worthy” fields. Programming, engineering, coding, anything they thought they could use to understand and exploit soulmates. Once S.H.I.E.L.D raided the school, she was put into the foster system, and quickly placed with newly widowed May Parker and her nephew, Peter-who was about her age. 

At first Peter was resentful of Violet, thinking she was there to fill whatever hole May had in her heart, since Ben had only died a few months prior. When someone loses their flame, it can drive people mad, desperate for any kind of love. He was rude and short with her until one day May pulled him aside. 

“ _Peter Benjamin Parker”_ she had seethed, “You stop this.. Just because we’ve experienced loss doesn’t mean we should help those who are lost. Now, go in there and watch space wars with her.”

“Its _Star Wars_ , May,” he groaned

However, Peter really began to warm up to her when she had corrected him when he was restoring the only computer monitor he found in the garbage outside his apartment. 

“Actually, if you upgrade the processor, you’d have better luck restoring the motherboard as a whole,” she said meekly, peering over his shoulder.

“Oh..uh, yeah. Thanks… You wanna work with me on this?” After that, they became thick as thieves, Ned and eventually MJ welcomed her into their lives.

In the Tower, after scarfing down the sandwiches from Delmars, Peter and Violet sat together, catching up, Vi’s history textbook flopped open on the seat next to her. 

“So Petey, you _know_ Captain America right?”

“Oh yeah Vi! He’s so cool… or I guess was cool since he’s technically a fugitive now, I guess? Why?” 

“No reason really, just… I have a paper on the history of enhanced individuals and their effects on finding someone’s flame due soon and I wanted to know if you could ask him some questions for me?”

“I don’t know if _I_ can but I can for _sure_ ask Mr. Stark-”

“Ask me what, kid?” The bearded billionaire appeared seemingly out of nowhere behind the two. 

Peter immediately stood up, his back straight as an arrow. Called to attention. If she squinted, she could see a faint blush peaking on his cheeks. 

“H-hey Mr. Stark! This is my sorta-sister Violet! She was just wondering if you could give her some quotes from Cap… er, um I mean, Mr.Rogers.” 

Violet stuck out her hand to Tony for him to shake, but he just stared at her hand as if it was offensive. 

“Sorry, underoos. Cap is a wanted criminal, I’m not going to doel out his information to his fangirls.” Peter was shocked at his brazen tone. He knew Tony could be harsh but he was being borderline rude.

“Well, actually Mr. Stark I have some questions I’d love to ask you! I know your father, Howard was involved in-”

Tony interrupted again. “Look kid, I’m not here to appease your ‘superhero’ fantasies, okay? Just google it. I need my intern back anyways,” he turned and walked away, looking back only to cast a distrustful glance at Violet, “C’mon Mr.Parker.”

Peter shot her an apologetic look as he scrambled to follow Tony Stark to the elevators. The click of his Lounoutins echoing, ringing in her ears. She sheepishly gathered her belongings, shoving them in her worn green jansport bag, seams crying from the pressure. Hoisting the monstrosity on to her back once more, she began her long trip back to her apartment in the outskirts of Queens. 

* * *

Tony sat at his large mahogany desk, his gaze locked on the small flip phone in front of him. Every inch of his pride screamed that he should leave Steve alone, but there was something about that girl he didn't trust. He’d heard Peter prattle on and on about his ‘genius foster-sister before, but he had never met her. Until now. 

Beyond just a gut feeling, he knew he’s seen her face before, he just couldn't place it. He debated with himself for what felt like hours, going back and forth in his mind whether it was worth reaching out to Cap just on a hunch. His pride eventually lost the battle and Tony grabbed the small silver phone, tentatively pressing the call button for the only contact saved-Steve. 

The phone rang six times, leaving Tony both dreading and looking forward to hearing the deep voice on the other end of the line. 

“Tony?”

“Steve, look. I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important. Parker has a sister, but there is something off about her. Can you have Romanoff look into her? I _know_ I’ve seen her before and that can’t be a good sign. 

“Nat’s not in New York right now, but… I know someone who could look into it but I don't know if you’ll like it.”

“Wilson?” 

“No, Bucky is in Brooklyn. He doesn’t trust himself to do any reconnaissance in the field, but he’d probably be fine to look into it.”

Reluctantly, Tony agreed to let Barnes look into Paterson, knowing he'd keep a low profile. After all he was a wanted criminal and all. 

Standing up, the small metal bed creaked below Bucky’s large frame. The bedroom floor lay barren, his large backpack propped up near the front door. The faded blanket he’d borrowed from Sam pooled around his feet, a few down feathers escaping from the seams. Rubbing his eyes, his bare feet padded across the rickety wooden floor. With bleary eyes, he brewed a large pot of coffee, hoping to inspire some life into his body. It was after two in the afternoon, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had nothing better to do anyway. Checking his phone, he was surprised to see that Steve had left a message. 

“Hey Buck, listen Tony needs you to look into a girl for him, something about her and Peter bothers him. I left her information under your door,” the message trailed off for a moment, “And take care of yourself bud. We’ll figure this all out soon.”

Bucky pulled open the file that Steve left, and began digging into her background info. Violet Paterson. She was young, and he hated to admit it, but she was beautiful. She had a round, fair face, spattered in freckles, her bright green eyes that seemed to be staring back at him through her picture. Bright ginger hair flowed out behind her in a cape of curls, showering her shoulders. Dragging his eyes down her body, she was curvy, almost soft-looking. He had to avert his eyes from her breasts, a blush kissing his cheeks. Despite the image being a screencap from the security camera, Bucky was taken with her appearance. He had to remind himself that she was a job, not some dame on the street. Shaking his dirty thoughts out of his head, he went to the shower to start his day. 

* * *

In her small apartment in Queens, Violet slumped on the musty, green velvet couch, her textbooks haphazardly strewn about. She was waist deep in the history of enhanced individuals and twin flames:

> _Theorists pose many different ideas for the origin of the ‘Soulmate’ or ‘Twin Flames’. Sullivan Andreas believes that when life emerged, something drastic caused a soul to tear into two, damming all souls to be seeking each other out for the rest of time. There is distinct evidence to the fact that souls will continue to exist beyond a single person’s life-span. This claim is supported by the fact that multiple sources_ _(1)_ _claim to have memories from their souls past lives. Dr. Daniel Williamson’s study on the connection of soulmates confirms that the connection is found through touch alone, not just by sight. This fact explains why the instances of connections dwindling in past years, due to the rising population, globalization and social media. This decrease in the instances of finding one’s flame has caused the Wanderer population to skyrocket._
>
>>   1. _Wanderer is a commonly used term to describe someone who has not yet found their twin flame.  
>  _
>> 


Violet rolled her eyes. She’d always been dismissive of the idea of “twin flames”, she never believed the idea that one part of her soul _belonged_ to someone else. With a heavy sigh, she closed her textbook and nearly frisbeed it across the room, grabbing a blanket. She turned on _Star Wars: A New Hope_ , wishing Peter was there to watch with her. They loved the movies, both of them cringing beyond belief when May called it “Space War.” She watched lazily, her mind still reeling about her essay, her thoughts kidnapped by her studies. For the rest of the night, all she could think about was soulmates and enhanced individuals. 


	2. Chapter Two: Hostage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hi,” she whispered at him, heart racing in her chest so fast it hurt. Her hand felt warm. Where he touched her felt like a ‘smore; Hot, but the heat was welcoming and tempted you for more. Her body felt alive; she could’ve shot sparks from her fingertips. All exietment from meeting her hero melted away, replaced by a new and furvernt affection. If she had known any better, she would’ve called it love. But what she felt was more than love. She was floating away in the wind but felt heavier than stone, she was shivering but felt like her body was ignited with bright white flames. Her entire self was overrun by a series of contradictions in a feeble attempt to explain what she felt. She knew the theory of twin flames, but she never imagined it could feel the way it did.

The first night he watched her, Bucky crouched outside her window, bracing against the rugged brick in an attempt to stay hidden. Though he was aware of the bitter winter winds, the combination of the serum and his hoodie kept him warm. His metal hand fidgeted underneath the thick wool glove, annoyed with its hindrance. Conducting surveillance was like a second nature to him. Violet was sitting on her couch, shrouded in blankets, TV flashing into the dark room. He craned his neck to get a better view of the titles of her textbooks, but the lack of light obscured the text. He wondered to himself _why_ Tony sent him to watch this girl, she was just an average college student. Granted having no public history up until a few years ago was odd, but not something he’d ordinarily consider surveillance worthy. 

Sometime after eleven PM, she dragged herself off her sofa and locked herself in her bedroom, TV still on. Waiting until her apartment grew still, he picked the lock. His years being under HYDRA’s control left him with numerous skills, some more valuable than others. Inside, he immediately noticed the smell of vanilla and jasmine, soft and pleasant. Inviting. Her apartment was small, but felt homey all the same; mismatched furniture in various states of wear and tear, well loved trinkets lined the walls, almost every surface was covered in signs of life. He walked around the space, picking up one of the textbooks on the floor, flipping through its pages. Her small sticky notes protruded from the sides of the book; the small messages to herself made the corner of Bucky’s lip twitch upwards. His body stiffened when he heard shuffling behind her bedroom door. Without thinking, he rushed to the front door and slipped outside, pulling the latch closed as quietly as possible. As he made his way down the street, he forgot he still had her textbook locked safely in his left hand.

* * *

Violet always wished she woke up prettily like many of the cartoon princesses she'd seen for years. Instead, she awoke with a startled grunt, suddenly sitting upright, nearly vertical before her eyes even opened. Sleepily stumbling next to her bed, her naked legs pricked at the sudden rush of cool air. After letting out a yawn that rivaled a grizzly bear’s, she bobbled into her bathroom to freshen up for class. She didn't need to be on campus until 11:30, so she relished her time to laze around. 

She twisted the shower handle on, eagerly awaiting the scalding water to run over her tired muscles, so warm her skin turned pink. Once inside her box of steam, she began to lather her hair and body, softly singing old 70s songs under her breath. 

Stepping outside the shower, still wrapped in her towel, she made her way to her living room to prep her backpack to leave for class. Her brow furrowed when she couldn't find her textbook on enhanced individuals. 

_“I swear it was right here when I went to bed last night…”_ she muttered to herself, annoyed she couldn’t find the book.

Huffing she stood up, readjusting her towel, she trudged back to her bedroom to get dressed. Violet tugged on a thick pair of leggings and a forest green cable knit sweater to wear under her parka, and her same pair of vans. Suddenly realizing how late she was running, she shoved her curly mane into a knot on her head and rushed out the door. In her haste, it didn’t even dawn on her to lock the door. 

She ambled down the body street, eye curious eyes meeting many dogs, street vendors, and hurried business people. Her soft music was dulling the sounds of the city, Billie Eilish crooning through her earbuds. As she met the subway staircase, she dropped her keys that she’d stupidly left dangling on her forefinger. Turning to pick them up, her eyes widened in pure shock, her mouth dropping open. James Buchanan Barnes was in front of her. The man from her history books suddenly alive and well before her, as large and intimidating as the media made him seem, but not scary. Definitely not scary. 

“Oh my gosh, Sergeant Barnes if I could take a _moment_ of your time! I’m a history major at Queen college and I-” She bumbled quickly, shooting her hand out in front of her to shake his. His face showed no acknowledgment of her words, but as if on instinct, he grabbed her hand. 

* * *

Bucky had been watching her for nearly a month, his own schedule beginning to mold itself around hers. The snow melted around him even as it fell. By sunrise, he boasted a cap of white dust in his long, dark hair. He woke up around seven-thirty in the morning, well before Violet, making sure he had time to survey her in the morning before she left for class, and every day, just after she’d left, he’d follow her to the subway. He appreciated the fact she kept her headphones in while she walked, it made it much easier for him to go undetected. 

Today was no different. He woke up, went to her apartment, and followed her to the subway. She stopped once, to gawk silently at a man walking his dog, but then promptly scurried off to her stop, not wanting to be late. The rational voice in the back of Bucky’s mind nagged him, telling him that he’s too close to her, to back off, that he’s being reckless, he was getting _comfortable_. Instead of listening, he just watched the way she walked, almost up on her toes, nearly skipping or bouncing. He didn’t know why, but it made him feel warm. Made him smile, ever so slightly pushing the corner of his plus lips upwards. 

He turned the corner of the stair railing, leading underground, not seeing her when she bent down. When she stood, he knew she had seen him. He hoped -prayed- that she would ignore his presence and carry on with her day. He was naive to think so, he’d seen her notes on him in her textbook. She muttered something so quickly Bucky couldn’t process, still too shocked from his mistake. Her face was bright with excitement, as if she was glad to see him. Her hand pushed out to shake his, and as if he hadn’t dug himself into a hole already, he had now buried himself. He took her hand. 

It was when their palms touched that he felt like he’d just been killed and then shocked back to life with a thousand lightning bolts all at once. He recoiled away from her, his skin burning, set ablaze, flames radiating out from his palm. All rational thought said he was injured, that Tony was right, and she was some operative, but still, he stood rooted in the same place. His other hand bracing his body against the sticky railing. And then, for a moment, he wasn’t on the crowded, loud streets in Queens.

> He was in a field, tall grass tickling his ankles, a sea of purple wildflowers coating the ground, flowing out for acres. His chest was heaving as if he had just been running. Looking up, he saw a woman, a beautiful woman looking back at him as she skipped. Annie. Bucky knew he’d never seen her before, but something in his heart knew her. Loved her. 
> 
> _“Harrison Thompson!” The bell-like voice chided, “Have you given up so easily?"_

That’s when it all clicked. He understood what he was seeing, feeling. A memory, but not to him. Not anymore, anyways. He’d heard stories of this in the 40’s, when people met their…. Person - _he couldn’t bear to think of the name-_ they sometimes flashed back to a time before, another time their souls were together. He used to think they were making it all up, no one saw “their soul’s past life”. But now… he felt foolish to even doubt what they felt. 

Once again feeling he was back in New York, he forced himself to meet her eyes. Clear green gaze cutting into him. Her eyes were wide, full of revelation and hope. _And love_ , his subconscious interrupted. Her breathing was shaky, breaths tumbling out of her lips, her soft body now quivering. 

“Hi,” she breathed at him, clearly expecting he felt what she did. But he didn’t. Not entirely. 

He didn’t even think he could have this, assuming the damage HYDRA had done to his brain, his soul, was irreversible. Thought that the part of him that could love, that could _be loved_ was mutilated by the bitter reality of the decades of torture he’s been through. Committing atrocities and then having his mind whipped, cleared as if it was a chalkboard, broke something in Bucky. He’s always hoped he’d never meet his soul mate, to say a wanderer for the rest of his life. He thought it a good punishment for his sins, and he hated the idea that anyone should love him, they didn’t deserve to be stuck with an irredeemable creature such as him. They would only get hurt.

For what felt like hours, he mulled over what to say to her. A war raging inside his very being, part of him elated to have found her, his other half. His _soulmate._ The other part of him, the darker part that tormented him with nightmares, ravaged him with guilt, and punished him with memories, told him that _this was wrong._ He doesn’t _deserve_ to have a soul flame. He was a monster. He _is_ a monster. All he can do is destroy. 

Unfortunately for the both of them, the latter side won the battle in his brain. It tried, but failed, to also snuff out his soul’s reigned flame. 

“I’m sorry kid,” he mumbled gruffly, the words like acid in his mouth, “but no.”

* * *

“Hi,” she whispered at him, heart racing in her chest so fast it hurt. Her hand felt warm. Where he touched her felt like a ‘smore; Hot, but the heat was welcoming and tempted you for more. Her body felt alive; she could’ve shot sparks from her fingertips. All excitement from meeting her hero melted away, replaced by a new and fervent affection. If she had known any better, she would’ve called it love. But what she felt was more than love. She was floating away in the wind but felt heavier than stone, she was shivering but felt like her body was ignited with bright white flames. Her entire self was overrun by a series of contradictions in a feeble attempt to explain what she felt. She knew the theory of twin flames, but she never imagined it could feel the way it did. 

Every second they sat in silence was like agony. She waited for him to greet her back, to profess his love in a sappy, romantic way. Sweep her off her feet. But it never came. Her mate’s face was contorted in thought, almost as if he was in pain. A shaky breath left her lips. 

“I’m sorry kid, but no.” He turned on his heel, and practically spirited away. 

Meanwhile, Violet stood, mouth agape, at the entrance to the subway staircase. She expected herself to chase after him, or to wake up from this dream -or rather, nightmare- she was living. But all she could do was stand still. Eventually, she was shoved out of place by more hurried people in suits, and that broke her out of her daze. Deciding she deserved a day off of class, she made the walk back to her apartment. Billie Eilish still crooning bittersweet melodies in her ears, the sounds of the city stopping her from being able to fly away. Trapped her in the present. _In the pain._

Back at her apartment, Violet broke through the numbness. As soon as the latch creaked into place, she screamed. Howled. She felt as if she were being gutted, disemboweled alive, torn apart. The ache was so deep, she couldn’t identify where it stemmed from, just that her soul was shattered. Was she crying? She didn’t know. She sat back to her door, knees to her chest, arms wrapping around herself, as if to defend her body from more pain. 

The pain dissipated after a few hours, simmering into an all over numbness that left her empty. Drawing herself up from the floor, she grabbed a random liquor bottle from her kitchen, pressed the cold glass directly to her lips. She wanted to drown her pain. 

“ _Was I not enough for him? What could I have done? Does he think I’m ugly”_ she thought to herself. Insecurities and self-doubt began to flood her system. Intellectually she knew that the rejection of a mate was rare. Mostly because of the extreme physical pain that comes with ignoring your body’s most basic instinct. 

Once she considered herself sufficiently drunk, she pulled herself into bed. Hoping to sleep away the agony that held her hostage. 

That night she dreamt about two lovers in Scotland, Annie and Thomas, soulmates she supposed. They played with flowers, rolled in the grass, and kissed near the lake. She felt what Annie felt, pure joy, heart swelling happiness. She wished she could hate them, loathe the couple for their happiness, but she couldn’t. She just felt in love watching them be in love. She saw snippets of their life together, being married, having children, grandchildren, just being happy together. She supposed it was a long time ago, based on the way they spoke, their clothing, the small cottage they lived in. The only time she felt pain the whole dream was when she watched Thomas die, the despair in Annie’s heart matching Violet’s own torment. 

When she woke up, the pillow was stained from tears. Her throat was raw from the sobs. She shoved the memory of the dream away, not wanting to feel anything remotely close to love. She had always resigned herself to being a wanderer, she never minded the notion. But to have the promise of nirvana, pure unadulterated happiness in front of her ripped away, was more agonizing than being alone could’ve been before. 

She wanted to call Peter, have him bring her ice cream and cry with her on her bed. She almost called him, but she remembered _he_ knew Peter, at least through Mr. Stark or Captain America. She didn’t want to worry him. Instead she shoved on a pair of shoes, her clothes from the day before wrinkled and disorderly. She went to the only person she knew who had met their soulmate before. May. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you all liked chapter two! And I promise, its only angst. we WILL have a happy ending!


	3. Chapter Three:Pain Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He heaved the flask to his lips, gulping the amber fire in an attempt to soothe the ache in his core. His body was weak, eyes weary. He’d been fighting off sleep for days -maybe weeks- evading the dreams of his victims and his soul’s past life that taunted him with what he could never have. Knowing Violet’s soul lived in Annie’s body nearly drove Bucky to insanity. The feelings he had for her were primal, instinctive, and yet he couldn’t help but feel like in the single moment she held his hand, he had fallen in love. 
> 
> “Love,” he thought bitterly. For Bucky, love felt like a fool’s errand. A hopeless ideal that someone like him didn’t deserve. “Villains don’t get to fall in love”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings!!  
> Mention of physical violence and abuse (starts at line "The first time Violet opened up to the Parker family..." and ends at "...so they learned not to ask."  
> Some substance (alcohol) abuse (throughout)  
> Depression (throughout)

The second Bucky turned his back on his soulmate, he regretted it. The act of turning away tore him apart more than anything HYDRA could have ever done to him. Rejecting the other half of his soul took all of the strength he could muster, but he knew it was for the best. By rejecting her, he was saving her. 

Bucky _knew_ he was dangerous. He was one word sequence away from unraveling and until he could find a way to wipe his mind of the programming, he was a hazard to be around. 

That's how he found himself nursing his sorrows alone in his apartment, clinging on to the Asgardian mead bottle in his hands as if it were the only tether he had to reality. He sat on the battered wood floors, his own anguish heavy in the air around him. Wreaking of pain. He tried to come to terms with his choices, to live the rest of his life forlorn and disconsolate. But all he felt, even through the mead, was a fire burning in his chest. Incinerating his resolve, pledging to only be extinguished by Violet’s gentle grip. 

He heaved the flask to his lips, gulping the amber fire in an attempt to soothe the ache in his core. His body was weak, eyes weary. He’d been fighting off sleep for days -maybe weeks- evading the dreams of his victims and his soul’s past life that taunted him with what he could never have. Knowing Violet’s soul lived in Annie’s body nearly drove Bucky to insanity. The feelings he had for her were primal, instinctive, and yet he couldn’t help but feel like in the single moment she held his hand, he had fallen in love. 

_“Love,”_ he thought bitterly. For Bucky, love felt like a fool’s errand. A hopeless ideal that someone like him didn’t deserve. _“Villains don’t get to fall in love”_

And so, that's how he spent the past three days. In a melancholy stupor, the strong liquor in his veins blurring the world around him. At one point, though he couldn’t pinpoint when, Steve had called, Bucky just let it ring. He just hoped Steve would leave him be, assuming he was wrapped up in his research into Violet or the fix for his trigger words, but alas. Steve never let anything go, especially not when it came to Bucky. 

When Steve and Sam came to check on him after many evaded calls, they found him on his bare mattress, sheets strewn across the room. Thick black sweatpants were the only coverings he whore. His face bore the stains from the tears that seemed to never stop flowing. 

“Christ Buck, what the hell happened?” Steve’s heart clenched, seeing his best friend in such a state.

* * *

It was raining when Violet finally made her way to May’s apartment, her drunk mind having difficulty navigating the wet, busy streets. Her normally poofy, curly hair hung limply down her back, straightened by the storm. Her green eyes rubbed red from banishing tears, her clothes sticking flush to her skin. 

When May Parker opened the door, she saw her foster-daughter’s face and she’d recognized the type of anguish on her face. She had been in that state herself when she lost Ben. May ushered her inside, wrapping a clean, fluffy towel around her shoulders to lessen the chill of the cold. Violet collapsed into May’s arms the moment they sat on her sofa, curling her body into her foster-mom’s. She just cried for the first hour, loud, broken sobs echoing off the walls, hitting May in the heart. She couldn't help but let a few empathetic tears slip from her eyes, she _knew_ the pain, knew it very intimately. 

When May’s soulmate, Benjamin Parker, died she’s known immediately. It was like something had sat on her chest, suffocating her in pain. She remembered the exact moment, she’d been washing the dishes after dinner. The plate that smashed on the floor broke her out of her stunned silence, and she immediately called Ben, praying to anyone deity who would listen that he would be okay. Had it not been for Peter, and later Violet, May wasn’t sure she would be in much of a different position than Violet was in now, drunk and weeping. That’s how she knew what happened with Vi, only a soulmate can cause that amount of pain.

Finally, Violet felt cried out, and was able to give May a shallow and shambled description of what transpired at the subway stop entrance. Recounting the feelings she had before he’d said the five words that shattered her heart tore open the still fresh wound in her gut. 

“ _I’m sorry kid, but no?!_ ” May asked incredulously, her small frame shaking in anger on her daughter’s behalf, “What kind of absolute _horseshit excuse_ is that?! That Barnes guy better hope I don’t find him, or he’ll be sorry!”

Violet laughed for the first time since she’d met Bucky, it was airy and weak, but a laugh nonetheless. 

“May,” she started softly, treading her words lightly as to not cry again, “He’s _Bucky Barnes_ , ya know? Winter Soldier? Ex-Assassin extraordinaire? As much as I’d _love_ to see you lay into him, I wouldn’t want to risk him…” she released a shaky sigh, “It would be all too much.”

The older brunette softened her gaze, rubbing her palms up and down Violet’s arms. “Wait, isn’t that they ‘metal-arm guy’ Peter mentioned from his internship?”

A lump clogged Violet’s throat. She nodded dumbly. 

“Perfect! Just have Pete talk to him for you! Maybe then he could talk some sense into him, figure out why he would give up the best thing to ever happen to him.” She squeezed the ginger as she said that, hoping to provide even an ounce of maternal comfort. 

“ _No_! No… I don’t want Peter to know. He’ll worry too much and I don’t want him in trouble with um… Mr. Stark ya know? I’ll tell him when there is something to say.”

May’s eyes met Violet’s, her gaze sad but understanding. They both knew how protective Peter could be, and Vi didn't want to risk his place with Tony Stark. There was an unspoken understanding that both women knew his position was beyond just an intern, but neither had the courage to say it out loud, for fear it would make the danger he was in more _real_. 

Taking in a rattling breath, Violet sat her sore body upright, her face and hair having left a wet splotch on May’s ivory linen pants. Her lungs burned from her tears, eyes rubbed raw. In a soft voice, as she dropped her eyes to her lap, she asked “May… what do I do without him? I spoke _one word_ to him, and already _I love him_.”

* * *

Sam and Steve had spent nearly three hours cleaning Bucky and his apartment, fixing the wreckage that was left by Violet. Sam still didn’t know the brunet man very well, but he felt for him all the same. A friend of his had lost his mate while overseas and he fell into a depression that ultimately led to his demise. He was all too aware of the damage losing a mate could have, and so he helped in the small ways he could. 

Meanwhile, Steve had pulled Bucky into the kitchenette, attempting to knock some sense into his best friend, trying to express how _selfish_ Bucky was being. Unbeknownst to Bucky, Stave had called Natasha, the most talented spy he knew, to find out what she could about his friend’s rejected mate. Once Natasha had told Steve of her kind nature and the state she was in, he wanted to yell. Yell at Bucky for being an asshole, for so selfishly shattering this young girl’s heart, her _soul_ . Granted, he understood _why_ Bucky was being hesitant, careful of his effect on her life, but at this point he was being a coward. Refusing to take a chance to better his life, _her life_ , all because he was scared. 

“You don’t get it Steve, I could hurt her, or worse- _kill_ her. I could ruin her. She doesn’t deserve someone like me. _Doesn’t want someone like me_.” His voice was thick with self pity, and he knew it too. 

“Oh shut the _fuck_ up, Buck!” Steve bursted out at his friend. The other men in the room were surprised at the sudden outburst and the vulgarity. “Barnes. Stop it. You aren’t afraid of hurting her, you aren’t afraid of her not wanting you. You’re afraid to finally let _someone_ in. You want to hide yourself in your pain, and that doesn’t work,” Steve lectured, exasperated, “You aren’t alone in the world. Stop acting like it.”

Bucky stood in silence for a moment, processing all of Steve’s words. His body shook, and he wasn’t sure if it was out of anger or pain. The blond slowly wrapped his arms around his friend’s body, soothing the sobs that shook the roof. 

“I fucked up Steve, I really did. I ruined it, didn’t I?” Bucky’s voice was smaller than Steve had ever heard it before, anguish lacing his voice. 

“I honestly don’t know Buck, but it is worth trying.”

And thus Bucky Barnes’ carefully constructed steel wall of protection began to disintegrate, keeping in time with his already crumbling resolve

After a total of fifteen days, eight hours and twenty-nine minutes, Violet had successfully gone to sleep without the aid of alcohol or a stream of tears. While she was only able to coax two hours of restless slumber from her body, she was still proud at the accomplishment. The longer she was away from thoughts about _him_ , the clearer headed she felt. 

“ _I don’t love him,”_ she thought to herself critically one day, after she agonized over her History of Enhanced Beings course literature, _“All I feel for him is merely hormones, or some archaic connection, an involuntary response. I can be without him. Easy. May is alone, and she is fine.”_ Her internal monologue snatched her attention away from her coursework. She did pity Annie and Thomas though, the former bodies of the estranged mate’s souls. The ancient Scottish couple probably relished in the thought that their souls would meet again. _“Though, I doubt Annie would be much pleased by her soulmate rejecting her, condemning her to wandering,”_ she thought, trying to force the anger from her mind. 

She was sitting on her floor, work spread around her in a semicircle on the coffee table and floor. Desperately, she tried to coax her brain into thinking about more than icy blue eyes and messy brown hair, a body and mind that housed over one hundred years of life. Her phone buzzed to life: Peter. He called more often now, knowing something was wrong but not wanting to press Violet for any information she didn’t want to offer freely. He knew that after all she went through with being given to Coventry so young, so abruptly, she had learned self-preservation through years and years of practice. 

> The first time Violet opened up to the Parker family about her past, it was a generic summer day by all appearances. Peter meandered around the small Queens apartment shirtless, Violet in cutoffs and a flimsy tank top, May had a flowy sundress. The trio focused on fighting the sweltering New York heatwave without AC. It had gone out again but maintenance seemed to be dragging their feet to fix it. 
> 
> “This reminds me of the summer we were all in the basement, coding,” Violet started, breaking the silence. A rare occurrence for the still very traumatized girl. “It was sweltering hot and Madam Theresa wanted us to code better, _faster_ , but we were ten so we could only do so much. That was the day she broke Bonnie’s fingers for mistyping some code. She wasn’t as proficient in binary as some of us were,” The fire-headed girl mused, as if she was talking about something as mundane as the weather, not abuse. 
> 
> The Parkers sat in silence for a few long moments, digesting the first sliver of information about Violet’s past that she'd ever given them. Peter was the first to speak, still so young, age fifteen. He was only seven months younger than his new sister, but she seemed to him as if she were eons away in life experiences. 
> 
> “Wait Vi… did you ever have your fingers broken?” He asked plainly, not knowing how to handle such information. 
> 
> “Peter!” May seethed, stage yelling at him from their small kitchen.
> 
> Unbothered, she answered. Her voice was light, light laughs devoid of mirth. “No Peter, but I did have my right shoulder dislocated. That was for mixing up the date Napoleon took power. And my left foot met the butt of Madam Karie’s cane all too many times, mostly for slow answers or backtalk.” She spoke so freely, stunning both May and Peter, as she’d been so reserved before. “I’m surprised I don’t have a permanent circular indent in my left foot.” She chuckled at her comment to herself, unaware of how distressing her childhood sounded to the ears around her. 
> 
> Violet never shared much about her life before the Parkers, before New York, but when she did it was never pleasant, so they learned not to ask. 

Violet answered her brother’s call. He was _“just checking in_ ,” as usual. He was blissfully unaware of the heartbreak she’d been enduring the past weeks. She thought herself silly, for a moment, being so worked up over a _boy_ . A man she’d met _once_ for all of _thirty seconds._

_Ridiculous._

She was abruptly ripped from her quiet thoughts by a loud and clear knock on her front door. It seemed to cause the windows to dance in their panes, pleading for safe stillness again. She ended the call with Peter, slowly stalking up to the door to answer it. She cursed herself for not having a peephole. With a quick release of breath, she swung open her old door. She was met with a blue gaze that carried the same sadness as her eyes did, features sunken in with exhaustion. 

Bucky Barnes. 

Her soulmate.

* * *

Bucky had run the speech over and over in his head, apologies locked cleanly under his belt, set on making amends. 

_“Maybe Steve’s right,”_ he thought to himself on the subway ride from Brooklyn to Queens, _“Maybe I do deserve happiness? Or at least she deserves to be loved, even If_ I _don’t. She deserves to understand.”_

Sam had forced him to shower before he left, claiming he reeked of booze and depression, and honestly he did feel better after cleaning himself up. Back in the forties, before his life had gone beyond all expectations of possible, he spent as much time as his dates did getting ready. Always wanted to look his best. He hoped, deep down, the suave, charismatic ladies-man he was in his ‘past life’ would return to him again. Guide him on how to fix what should've been the easiest, most instinctual relationship either of could have. 

When he arrived at the door he knew all too well from his “recon,” his temporary boost of confidence and resolve faltered. He didn’t know if he could handle her possible rejection. “ _What a lousy hypocrite I am,_ ” he thought. 

Before his mind could think better of it, his metal left hand raised and tapped on the door in front of him, sealing his fate. 

The knock was louder than intended, but he couldn't care much because he heard _her._ She was _so close_ , just behind a door. When the rickety slab of wood creaked open, the emotions that flooded his being nearly knocked him off his feet. 

She stood in front of him, looking more beautiful than he’d ever thought possible. Briefly, his mind flickered back to the images of the Asgardians Steve had shown him, and he resolved she was more beautiful than them. Than anything. 

She wore a white linen button down, and he tried to reel in his mind when he noticed the slight gap in the buttons near her breasts. She wore a loose pair of jeans and house slippers, her clunky glasses still fixed securely on her face. _Her beautiful face._ Her full figure, curvy and soft contrasted the hard, stiff wood door frame that encased her image. 

The mates stared at one another for a long time, struggling with the right thing to say. He tried to secure his hope to his side while she attempted to hold any of the anger that escaped her fists like sand. 

Bucky broke the silence first. 

“Hi.”

He was cautious, nervous, and still immeasurably more happy now just being in the presence of his mate, he couldn’t be bothered by the awkward situation he was in. 

She blinked at him. Once. Twice. She met his eyes. 

Her gaze locked on his, but her’s was cold. Angry, for sure, but there was something more. 

_Betrayal_.

“How _dare_ you show your face here. Do you understand the _hell_ I’ve been through? The _agony_ you’ve caused me? You don’t even _know me_ but somehow you’d already decided you didn't want me?!” Her volume increased, but Bucky still just savored her. There was a break in her speech, and she looked at him expectantly. 

“No! Violet please. I’m so, _so_ sorry. I was foolish. I am foolish. I am a selfish man who acted out of fear, but _please_ allow me to explain.” He took a step closer to her, his apologies earnest. He forgot for a moment that while she knew who he was based on her studies- and his infamous reputation, she’d never technically been introduced to her. He shouldn’t know her name.

He watched her chew the decision in her mind, then spit out, “Fine. But you have five minutes. After that, you _go.”_

He hastily accepted. He was desperate just to be near her. It was overwhelming, the feelings he had. Unmatched by anything in human existence, he was sure of it. Although involuntary, the both of them struggled to cope with the ocean of emotions that threatened to drown them everyday. 

And so, Bucky did what he worried he may never have the opportunity to do again: walk inside Violet Paterson’s home. Be welcomed by its familiar scent, jasmine and vanilla. Feast his eyes on the mountains of personality she packed into her space. But mostly, he’d never thought he would be able to be near his soulmate again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I've never written for Bucky before, but I hope you like it! And I promise Violet and Bucky will meet soon! ;)  
> Enjoy!!


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